


no one can hear you scream

by questionablemorals



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, I DON'T REALLY KNOW WHAT THIS IS I'M SO SORRY, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-18
Updated: 2013-04-18
Packaged: 2017-12-08 21:13:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/766066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/questionablemorals/pseuds/questionablemorals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was the first time Theon ever saw the planet officially known as B-725, referred to pretty much everyone as “the North.” (“North of what?” Theon had asked. Ned Stark had muttered something about physics and the nature of planets and <i>don’t worry about it Greyjoy</i>. Theon hadn’t asked another question for three days.)</p><p>(or, the space!au that no one really wanted or needed)</p>
            </blockquote>





	no one can hear you scream

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mockyrfears](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mockyrfears/gifts).



> SPOILERS FOR A STORM OF SWORDS DON'T READ IF YOU HAVEN'T READ A STORM OF SWORDS okay there we go carry on

 

The Westerosi System was _huge_.

Theon had learned this as a young child, eyes wide and Ned Stark’s hand on his back, as he gazed out the windows of the shuttle into space, watching wide-eyed as they passed planet after planet, from the teeming capital planet to the hot, sandy planet of Dorne to the incredibly blue planet Trident. Theon’s home planet wasn’t even that, but rather a moon filled with rock and mines, and it seemed so small in comparison to the huge, fertile planet Ned Stark referred to as the Reach, and even that is dwarfed in comparison to the icy monster that is the Stark’s home planet.

It was the first time Theon ever saw the planet officially known as B-725, referred to pretty much everyone as “the North.” (“North of _what_?” Theon had asked. Ned Stark had muttered something about physics and the nature of planets and _don’t worry about it Greyjoy_. Theon hadn’t asked another question for three days.)

From the moment he stepped foot in Winterfell, the biggest city of the North, Theon had immediately been shunted to the side in favor of Ned Stark’s welcoming wife, sporting a baby in one arm and a young redheaded girl on one leg. Behind her was a boy, staring brazenly around her legs at Theon, and behind him was a dark haired boy whose eyes were much more wary.

“This is verging on becoming a pattern,” the woman, who Theon would come to know as Catelyn Stark, had murmured as she glided up to kiss her husband’s cheek.

“It’s Greyjoy’s son,” Ned Stark had murmured back. “We’re to keep an eye on him.”

“I’ll keep two,” she had bitten back, and like that, Theon had joined the Stark clan.

The boys had been ushered towards him by Ned Stark. Robb Stark had been less tentative, coming up to Theon with a grin and a challenge in his eyes, while Jon Snow had trailed behind, eyes flicking between his half-brother and Theon.

“What’s your planet like?” asked Robb, and Theon had searched for words to describe his home, not wanting to admit his planet was really just a moon.

“Smaller,” he admitted, because it was all he could think to say. Jon Snow had rolled his eyes. Robb hadn’t.

“Don’t worry,” he had said. “You’ll get used to it.”

Theon hadn’t.

* * *

 

When Jon was fifteen, Theon had pushed him out of a space shuttle.

It wasn’t a big deal, they had been wearing space suits and he was connected to the shuttle so he’d just kind of drifted for a while until Robb had taken pity and pulled him back in.

Needless to say, Jon didn’t hold all that much affection for the Greyjoy boy. The feeling was decidedly mutual after a rather unfortunate incident involving Jon’s dog and a rather shamefaced visit to the doctor.

Robb, however, and for reasons unknown to Jon, seemed to actually _like_ Theon. It was slightly bewildering to him.

“Stop being such a baby,” said Arya impatiently, hands on her hips, standing over Jon as he lay on his back, staring at the stars. “ _I_ like you more than Theon.”

“Well, you like everyone more than Theon,” he said, snorting.

She dropped down next to him, staring up at the stars with him. The roof was quiet and cold, and she pushed in closer until he put his arm around her, hand ruffling her hair.

“I like you more than everyone,” she said quietly, and he wondered where this was going. “Which is why I was a bit surprised to learn that you were going to the Wall from _father_.”

Jon winced. He had hoped to put this conversation off indefinitely. Maybe leave a note.

“I’ll come visit,” he offered.

She hit him, sitting up to glare at him. “So it’s _true_? You’re going to live on a space station? Seven hells, Jon, what are you _doing_?”

He shrugged, because, to be honest, he really didn’t know what he was doing. “It’s a respected vocation. I’ll get to go to space.”

“You’ll probably die,” she informed him, and he couldn’t help but smile, because that was just Arya all over. She was blunt almost to a fault.

“Your protest has been noted, little sister,” he said affectionately. “I’ll come visit you whenever I can.”

* * *

 

Except, apparently, that was _never_. Not that it would have mattered, anyway, as Ned Stark was called to the central planets and took his daughters with him.

“Left the day after you did,” said Robb, staring out of the video pad at Jon. “Jon Arryn died, and they were on the first ship out. Arya wanted to call you, but father said you’d be busy, how is it?”

“Cold,” admitted Jon. Space is _cold_. “Not that different. Darker.” His voice wavered slightly, and he hoped Robb wouldn’t notice. His luck had never been good, however, and Robb smirked at him.

“What, don’t tell me you’re scared of the dark?” Jon glared at the screen. Robb could be kind of a dick sometimes.

(On some level, it was reassuring, and he didn’t feel as scared. He wondered if Robb did that on purpose.)

(He probably did. Robb had always been good at reading Jon.)

* * *

 

Theon wished he could read Robb.

The younger boy had grown up open-faced and innocent, a trait disciplined out of him by his parents as they taught him what it meant to be in charge of an entire planet, and Robb had developed something of a poker face over the years. It was infuriating.

“So, Your Grace,” said Theon, stretching out his arms and sitting on the couch, as Robb stood by the window. “You’ve got your very own planet now. Want to celebrate?”

Robb turned from the window, rolling his eyes. “We dropped the ‘your grace’ tradition hundreds of years ago, Greyjoy. And I don’t think it’d apply to you anyway.”

Theon didn’t even want to touch that one, because he was pretty sure that he and Robb had very different reasons for why that didn’t apply to him. Robb’s probably had something to do with Theon not being from the planet. Theon’s had more to do with not being able to look at Robb without thinking about his cock.

“Truthfully, now I’m a bit worried that every time I do anything I’m on the verge of plunging the planet into civil war,” continued Robb. “I don’t want to drunkenly start a war with Storm’s End because someone took a vid of me drunkenly making fun of Stannis Baratheon, or something.”

Privately, Theon thought that Stannis Baratheon deserved to be drunkenly made fun of, but he doubted that was Robb’s point.

“Besides,” said Robb, turning back towards the window. “There’s— _fire_.”

“What?” said Theon, sitting up.

“There’s…the city is on fire,” whispered Robb, staring out the window.

Theon vaulted over the couch, striding to the window. “Get your mother, make sure she’s safe. Come on, Robb.” He grabbed the man’s shoulder, shaking him until he blinked and jumped into movement.

* * *

 

The fire was bad, but it could have been worse.

Robb had gotten to Catelyn, telling her to stay put, and then dashed out to help with the fire fighting effort.

Theon had been side by side with him, hooking up hoses and helping people get to safety. He had been exhausted by the end of it, but it had been worth it to feel Robb drop down beside him, declaring himself too tired to move to his own bed. It wasn’t the first time they had shared a bed, but it happened less frequently and he took a moment to listen to Robb’s even breathing before drifting off to sleep, sirens still wailing in the depths of the city.

* * *

 

Jon was surprised by how fast everything snowballed.

One day, Arya was sending him a video about her weapons training at the capital and Sansa’s “creepy” (her words, not his) crush on Joffrey Baratheon, and the next day, Robb was comming him from Winterfell, telling him about the death of King Baratheon and their father’s imprisonment.

He tried to call Arya, but no answer, and he very nearly stole one of the Watch’s raiders to do…something. Fly to the capital, or to go help Robb who looked a bit too scared for Jon’s taste. He was too used to his brother’s cocky demeanor, and his brother’s wide eyes were all wrong.

“They think father did it,” said Robb, speaking quickly. “Like he would ever kill Robert Baratheon—they’re holding a trial and I’ve been ordered to attend—“

“But you _won’t_ ,” said a distinctively female voice, as Dacey Mormont slid into view. “Long time, no see, Jon.”

He was thrown off by her appearance—it had been rather a while. “Dacey? What are you—“

“Do you want to tell him or should I?” asked Dacey, and Robb huffed impatiently as Dacey smiled feral at Jon. “There’ve been some threats on Young Stark’s life. We’ve been ordered to serve as bodyguards.”

“Babysitters,” murmured Robb.

“That too,” said Dacey, patting Robb’s cheek absentmindedly. “Making sure the heir doesn’t trip and fall on Greyjoy’s—“

“Go _away_ ,” growled Robb, pushing Dacey off-screen, neither of them having any doubts that it was by her own volition and that Dacey Mormont is the deadliest woman either of them had ever met and she would not move unless she chose to do so.

“Bodyguards, huh?” said Jon. Robb shrugged, picking at something off screen, looking years older than Jon had ever seen him. “So what are you going to do?”

* * *

 

Theon hadn’t expected Robb to do _this_.

Sure, words about revolution and rescuing Ned Stark were all well and good but it hadn’t really registered in his mind that that meant… _this_.

This being a huge fleet of ships floating in space, from giant vessels bearing the Stark wolf on their side in silver paint to tiny Reed one-man ships. As Theon stood next to Theon, gazing out into the black and looking at all the ships, he swallowed.

“That’s a lot of men.”

“We’ll need more,” said Robb, eyes scanning across ships as Smalljon Umber slouched, deceptively relaxed, at his shoulder, hand lazily resting on a phaser.

(His lazy, uncaring persona was something of a façade, Theon had learned. The man was a killer. Theon supposed that you would have to be, growing up under Greatjon Umber’s thumb. The man also carried some rather _caring_ thoughts toward Dacey Mormont, if the way his eyes followed her was any indication.)

“Way more,” agreed Theon, hand going to his own gun, which he still couldn’t really believe he had. Robb hadn’t even questioned it, had just raided Ned’s armory and given the second best gun to Theon.

It really was a testament to Theon’s self-control that he hadn’t jumped Robb yet.

“If you’re still planning to, well…do this,” he continued, warily.

“Do you think I should?” said Robb, and, damn, if _that_ wasn’t a loaded question.

Theon thumbed at his gun. “I think you should have done it sooner.”

Robb’s smile was blinding and quick, and Theon thought, in that moment, that he would follow Robb anywhere. The smile was gone as quickly as it appeared, and Robb slapped Theon’s arm. “Let’s go, Greyjoy. I’ve got a war to sell.”

* * *

 

Hearing his brother had become the King in the North was slightly surreal. News came quickly to Castle Black, the satellite he was stationed on, but he had been out doing test runs of a small ship with Sam for two days and his return had been greeted with hushed tones and awkward silences until Commander Mormont had finally marched up to him and informed him of his brother’s new title.

Jon had almost flown the coop. Literally, in fact.

He had been inside a small ship and out of the landing bay before he even fully knew what he was doing, but it felt right even as he _knew_ it really, really wasn’t.

It felt right until he heard Sam’s voice crackling over the comm of his ship, reciting vows, joined by Grenn and Pyp. He had piloted away, but they had kept coming, the bigger ship easily outrunning his small one-man raider, until they were in front of him.

He had thought they might fire on him. Instead, they just talked.

The next morning, all four of them were present at breakfast, even as Sam almost fell asleep in his porridge before Jon nudged him awake.

(Jon didn’t tell anyone, but he read the comms that came in every day, searching for news of his brother. The Watch were his brothers _now_ , but Robb had been his brother first. Being stationed in an asteroid belt couldn’t change that.)

* * *

 

Theon was prepared to die by Robb’s side.

He wasn’t _hoping_ for that, obviously, but he had prepared for the eventuality. He had been by Robb’s side when he had become king in the North (Theon still, honestly, didn’t know what it was north _of_ ). He had been by Robb’s side during the firefight to capture Whispering Wood, an important town that controlled food supplies for many of the outer planets.

He had been by Robb’s side _after_ Robb had been voted King in the North, the night when Robb had looked horrified and far braver than he should have.

Theon had been the one who Robb had surged towards in that moment, kissing him fiercely and suddenly. Theon had been the one who had kissed back, eyes shut and mouth pleading. He was the one who had sunk to his knees, taking Robb in his mouth with a grin as Robb leaned against the wall, head back and hands grasping at him. He was the one who had laid that night with Robb, stretched out next to him, listening to Robb whisper plans and ideas until he fell asleep.

Theon was prepared to die by Robb’s side.

Robb, apparently, had other plans.

“It’s not enough,” shouted Robb, frustrated. “We need more ships if we even hope to compete with the army they’re building on Casterly Rock.”

“And where would those ships come from, Robb?” asked Catelyn Stark, and Robb deflated.

“I—“ He paused, as if thinking. “There is—“

“What?” asked the Greatjon, drumming his fingers against the table where ship models were scattered.

“There’s a fleet of ships on—“ Robb’s gaze flashed towards Theon. “Pyke,” he said, hurrying the word.

Theon left the next day. Robb watched from the observation deck as his ship flew out into the black.

* * *

 

Theon took the long way back, giving Robb’s forces a wide berth as they traveled through space faster than Robb ever had, back towards the North and the undefended cities that waited there.

“Smaller vessel,” said Asha, as if that explained it all.

* * *

 

Jon heard about his brother’s death on the comms.

There were so many reports that no one knew what was true. Some said that he had died when one of his own men (a Frey) pushed him into space. Some said he had died of a new space disease. Some claimed that he had been stabbed, and sent out into space in pieces.

Jon knew it didn’t matter. No matter how it happened, Robb Stark was dead.

He didn't sleep for three days.

* * *

 

Theon heard about it from Ramsay Bolton, a bounty hunter who had cheerfully informed him that his king had no more use to him.

He hadn’t believed him. After all, it was probably just one more lie told to drive Theon into madness.

“Stunned by one of his own men,” said Ramsay, gleeful. “And then, well…it wasn’t pretty.”

* * *

 

“Look at it go! Maybe it’s a piece of Robb Stark,” said one of the men, laughing uproariously and pointing at a star shooting across the sky, and Theon winced.

His hair was lank as he stared out from the observation deck, keeping Ramsay in the corner of his eye as he sat across the room, sullen next to his father.

Robb Stark. He hadn’t heard the name in a year.

He winced, rubbing the heel of his palm against his head.

 _Robb Stark. Robb Stark. Robb Stark_.

It echoed through his head.

* * *

 

 _Where was I? I should’ve been with him_.

**Author's Note:**

> I DON'T KNOW HOW THIS HAPPENED I APOLOGIZE PROFUSELY TO THE WORLD.


End file.
